If you don’t know your theme, get to know it. You will be asked about it, best it doesn’t come as a surprise to you – Elizabeth Jolley.

Years ago, I read the above quote from Elizabeth Jolley, and decided to pay special attention to becoming aware of my themes. I thought I knew what my overarching theme was. I thought (loftily) that my themes were the psychology of behaviour with narratives on behavioural theory.

It is often said that theme is difficult to describe, and writers are frequently unaware of just what their themes are. Theme is not story or plot. Theme is the underlying idea, concept, or philosophy in your story. Theme is not what happens in your story, but what your story is about. Theme is often not a choice, especially for fiction writers, but evolves out of a writer’s interests and passions, and, as a result, writers very often – but not always – have the same theme throughout their works.

Now that I’ve completed my third book, it has become clearly apparent that my theme is more tangible, and less lofty, than ‘psychology of behaviour’. I can now be more exact. For some reason not known to me, I write from a male POV and my theme is as simple as crazy men doing weird shit, or, men’s decent into madness.

Knowing your theme can be a useful tool in getting your story finished. If I find I’m wondering what it is I’m actually trying to say, if I’m asking the question, who is this story about? or what is this story about (questions publishers and agents want you to know about your own work) or what message am I trying to get across? Being clear on theme can help answer those questions.

Melissa Donovan says theme can be described as broadly as redemption, sacrifice, betrayal, loyalty, greed, justice, oppression, revenge, and love or they can ask questions or pit two ideas against each other: science vs. faith, good vs. evil, why are we here and what happens when we die?

When I put the question, what do you think your themes are, out to social media, writers were much more specific about their themes:

Bianca Nogrady: Family and what we would do for them (or not). Also choice … I’m fascinated by this idea that choice is generally viewed as a good thing in that it gives us a sense of control, that we can always choose between options, however bad those options are. I think there are some choices that we never want to be faced with, and in some situations we would rather have those choices taken away from us.

Eliza Henry Jones: The themes of my writing have always changed to reflect whatever it was I happened to be grappling with at that time in my life. Reading back over (very, very, very poor) novels that I wrote as a teenager is almost like reading a diary. I’ve explored issues of religion, dementia, adoption, substance abuse and parental mental illness. I think what I keep coming back to again and again, though, are themes of grief and letting go.

One of the benefits of knowing your theme means you can look where other writers have explored the same themes with success. Men’s decent into madness threw up the following titles, which also made me aware that, so far, I’ve only found male authors who have approached the same theme, so I’d better get to work!

Thanks for this note. I’ve been writing a lot for a quite a time, but I never had the chance to put them together. You’re right about theme. My journal entries read like a novel already. I need to establish its theme including the person as discussed in you other blog. Looking forward to your next blogs. Thanks. 🙂

Years ago an editor I worked with on an early book asked me to tell him, in one sentence, “what the book was about.” Though he avoided using the word “theme,” I believe that’s exactly what he was asking for. Sadly, I was completely unprepared for the question. Yes, I knew the book was set in the 1st century BC and it dwelt heavily on the conflict between the Celts and the Romans. I could tell him about the history, the mythology, the competing love stories, even the antiquities and relics which remain, but boiling it all down to one sentence defeated me. Writing the 160,000-word book seemed less difficult.

Now, ten novels later, I believe I could answer him more easily, but I have a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t be happy with my conclusion. “Theme” is one of those topics that literature and composition teachers bandy about while their students are busy fading into the woodwork lest they be asked about it. How often have we heard about such teachers who identifiy themes which the author never had in mind?

Do I believe in knowing my theme? Sure. Do I worry about it, or even think about it while I’m working on a story? Only if I run into trouble, and that has certainly happened. That’s when I go back and work on putting my story into a single sentence. So, if the idea of “theme” feels artificial or intimidating, I suggest trying to think in terms of just “what your story is about.”